Saying Goodbye

Whatever tears were left were caught up in his throat, forming a hard sort of lump that he couldn't get to go away.  It was.... a little strange.  He'd always thought he wouldn't be able to keep it together should he outlive her.  He had always seen himself being unable to stay around all the people looking at him and smiling comfortingly, instead having to get himself away from them and the rooms that seemed heavy with the emotion of the day.  He recalled a scene from a movie, very vaguely, in which three children who had lost their parents secluded themselves from the funeral guests by going upstairs and hiding in the back of their mother's closet, at which point the youngest noted "it smells like mommy in here".  That was what he had always thought he would end up doing.  Locking himself away from everyone and just wrapping himself in everything that she used to be.  Everything that, to him, she still was.  And yet... here he sat.  His shoulders were hunched.  His fingers were laced with his hands hanging limpy between his knees, his elbows rested on his legs.  His head was down a little and his gaze was unfocused, though he stared in the general direction of his shoes.  The only thing that made him look up was the soft whisper in his ear.  "Grandpa."  It almost sounded... for just a second... like Charlotte's voice.  But he blinked and looked up quickly only to find a big pair of soft-gray eyes staring back at him, the angelic face framed with wispy blonde hair that made the three-year-old look even more innocent than she really was.  It was his youngest granddaughter, Heather.  The youngest child of his own youngest child, Lily.  She had named both of her daughters after flowers, he suddenly noticed... Lily, Jasmine, Heather... He wondered if Charlotte had ever noticed it?  It was the kind of thing she would have loved...

But he blinked again and suddenly, everything around him became very clear.  The blonde little girl was standing up on the pew next to him, her mother holding onto her waist with one hand to make sure she didn't fall.  Heather was wearing a pink dress with a flower crown on her head of soft blonde hair - too young still to fully grasp the meaning of what was going on here.  She smiled at him, though.  All she saw was that her grandfather was sad, and she wanted to help him be happy again.  So after a moment of looking back at the little girl, the one piece of innocence he could see in this entire church, Charlie reached out with both arms, she walked into them, and he picked her up and settled her down to sit on his lap.  He held her close, looking over at her mother and giving a half-hearted effort at a smile as Lily reached out and touched his shoulder before sniffing roughly and then quickly turning back to bury her face in her husband's shoulder.  He took a deep breath and adjusted Heather on his lap, but as soon as he swallowed past that lump in his throat and started to turn his attention back to what exactly Ducky was saying, he stretched out a hand to the coffin and stepped down from the podium to sit back with his wife and children only a little way from him.  What?  Al... Already?  He... He didn't think he could... Not with Heather, surely, and she only just got settled, so... so maybe he should just stay here.  He... He didn't...

... He didn't want to think of Charlotte - his Charlotte - being in that wooden box and... and never coming out of it...

But then, somehow, as if something else was compelling him to get up and take slow step after slow step towards the coffin... that's exactly what he did.  He had Heather next to him, holding her left hand in his right, as he moved up to the coffin and gently touched it with his hand.  But the wood, while of a nice make and color, was cold and hard.  Exactly the opposite of what his Charlotte had been.  Charlie visibly winced and pulled his hand back before barely a second had passed, tugging Heather away slightly until she started to walk with him on her own.  Her mother passed him as they walked back to the pews, and Charlie let Lily pick Heather up in her arms.  He loved the little girl, but he didn't want a child hanging on him at the moment.  He wanted... he...  He wanted to...

People started talking around him.  A low mumble as people whispered and spoke under their breath, starting to converse more freely now that the main service was over.  A child's voice, a boy who he knew was Caleb just by the level of energy in his words, and then a grown man shushing him quickly and with a trace of panic in his voice.  Caleb's older brother Christian.  Charlie had met them before.  He knew them both quite well, so he didn't get upset or insulted at Caleb's little lack of subtlety.  Besides, he heard Ducky speak to them after a few moments, telling them that there would be pie and other things back at his house with Linda.  Caleb exclaimed excitedly at that, drawing a few good-natured chuckles from some of the people around them, but Charlie found himself suddenly standing off to the side, his hands in his pockets and his eyes fixed strangely on the doors at the back of the church.  He knew what he wanted now.

He wanted to be alone...

The procession of people moved as a group towards the lobby of the dark church building. Although before the preceding many of the guests had mingled and exchanged pleasant conversation, now the crowd was quiet, heavy with the loss that had been reminded them by the speeches given moments before. Ducky stayed close to his wife and children, keeping withing arm's reach of at least two of them at all times. His daughters were busy keeping their kids in line. His wife was going from person to person sharing hellos and other such pleasantries, a habit that did well for being a pastor's wife. He dealt through the various greetings and thank yous with less enthusiasm than she. His mind was preoccupied with other things. So many people had come to say their final farewells to this wonderful woman, yet it the crowd it shouldn't have been hard to spot the man who should have been of most concern to all these people. As Ducky stood by the door, absentmindedly answering the passing comments of the departing groups, his eyes were scanning the crowd for his dear friend. Where could he have been?

Linda made her way over to him, a small amount of concern in her eyes as she looked up to her husband. "Is everything alright, dear?" Ducky took a moment to scan the room a second longer before putting his hands on her shoulders and smiling down at his wife.

"Oh yes, my love. Everything is just fine. I'm simply worrying about Charlie. He was one of the first to leave, but I haven't seen him since he slipped through the door. You don't see him here, do you?"

Gently, Linda laid her soft hands atop his. "Wyatt and Miriam took him outside to the car. She says he's really not up to going to the grave sight. I can't even imagine how hard this must be for him." Ducky nodded, agreeing with his wife. He had no idea what his best friend must be going through. Not just because he's lost his wife, but because he had no comfort in the afterlife. Ducky could say with certainty that, though he may lose his friends and family here, some day soon he would see many of them again. Charlie just didn't have that confidence, and it must have been terrifying. How lonely it must be for him.

"How about I take him home, huh? Just to, you know, keep an eye on him. Keep him company."

"That sounds like a good idea. If he feels up to it later on you can bring him over to our house. Just...don't push him, alright? Remember, there's a time a place." Ducky knew well enough Linda wasn't just talking about a dinner invitation. He had a reputation for taking any opportunity to share the gospel, especially with those he held most dear, and even more especially with the open door that the loss of a loved one provided. Linda was warning him to be careful. There was a time when sharing God's word would be accepted, and a time when sharing it would close the door for good. Again, Ducky nodded in agreement with his wife's wise words of advice.

"I won't push him. I promise." He kissed her lips quickly, moving towards the door to push it open for another elderly couple. "I'll see you at home. I love you!"

"I love you," he heard her response as he slipped through the door after the first couple and headed out towards the parking lot. It didn't take him long to follow the rather noisy voices of restless children and their desperate mother.

"Miriam!"

"Oh, thank heavens you're here. Wyatt? Dad's here. Tell Charlie to let my dad take him home before we have to go to a murder trial too!" Ducky couldn't help but chuckle as he came close enough to realize that all the noise was caused by all of Miriam's children fighting over some sort of rock one of them had picked up from the flower bed outside the church doors. Miriam was right in the middle of the commotion, trying to get her kids to stop the fighting, but it was obvious she needed the man of the house to help. Ducky moved more quickly towards the car, passing his son-in-law on the way. He found Charlie in his car, looking more frayed than he'd imagined.

"Heya, Gramps," he teased lightly, letting his hand fall heavily on the other man's shoulder in a sort of pat. "How about you let me drive ya? That way you don't have to worry about all the reckless drivers and bumper traffic out there making you go crazy."